All My Life
by IslanderBib
Summary: series of one-shots about the life of Liam Pace I originally wrote for "Over Look" claim on LiveJournal
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** First Time  
><strong>Author:<strong> Bibi  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Lost  
><strong>Claim:<strong> Liam Pace  
><strong>Other characterspairings:** Simon Pace, Megan Pace, Charlie Pace, Karen Wagner  
><strong>TableTheme Name & Number:** Theme set IV; #6 Drive  
><strong>Rating: <strong>[…]  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> none  
><strong>Summary:<strong> […]  
><strong>AN:** fourth of ten for over_look for the claim of Liam

_**First Time**_

His fingertips felt sore, kind of funny, maybe numb. His knuckles and the joints of his fingers hurt. He'd been playing too uptight again. His ears were ringing and his head was pulsating. He had problems to keep his eyes focused. He felt dizzy.

But he was far from complaining. This was anything but a bad feeling. He felt high; high, like soaring high up above this makeshift-stage, high up above this audience; simply high.  
>High from euphoria, elation, triumph, happiness.<p>

He had showed them, all of them; showed them the he could do it, that they should not doubt him and his abilities.

With unfocused eyes he was trying to seek out his parents among the audience. He'd proven now that he was worth every single penny they spent on his guitar lessons. And all he wished for now was that they were proud, proud of him, their eldest.

"Performing a medley of Amazing Grace, Danny Boy, The Last Rose of the Summer and The Fields of Athenry, arranged by himself, this was William Pace from Year 2 of Saint John's Roman Catholic Primary School." With these words the announcer dismissed Liam from the stage. Clutching his guitar, Liam went behind the makeshift curtain and sat down on one of the wooden chairs there to steady his still shaking knees.

"William, huh?" One of the boys of the next act, the parish boys' choir, asked in a mocking voice. It was Adam from year 5 of his school, one of the cool ones who would leave primary after the summer and go to comprehensive.

Liam got up, his chin held up high, and made for the exit. "Choir boy," he mumbled as he passed Adam. He wouldn't let some bully spoil his day.

When he got down the two wooden steps from the stage, his family was already there, waiting for him.

His mother was wearing her best Sunday dress, a long white dress with red floral patterns. Liam loved to see his mother in this dress, because, usually it meant that it was Sunday, that he didn't have to go to school or do his homework, and that they were all going out as a family. And he had been with her when she had bought it and he had told her that she should take that one, because he liked it best.

His father was also donned in his Sunday suit, and it was as if that suit didn't only come with trousers, shirt and jacket, but also with a friendly, almost happy face. Every other day, his father spent all his time in his butcher's shop, and at the end of the day, he looked tired, exhausted and sad. Liam and his brother only saw him for dinner, then they would have to go to bed and their father would go to the pub. Sundays, they had their father all to themselves.

Even Charlie, his little brother, was wearing his best clothes and so far he didn't even have any grass smudges on them yet.

And they were all wearing their fine clothes only because of him, Liam. Because it wasn't Sunday, it was Saturday. It was the parish children festival. The years before, Liam and his brother had been allowed to wear normal clothes that wouldn't be ruined with the first smudge of fresh green grass. But this year it was his, Liam's great day. He had his first public appearance on a stage ever, as a soloist even. And with an arrangement of his favourite songs that he had written all by himself.

"Liam, honey, I'm so proud of you, love," Megan Pace held her eldest in a tight embrace, his head pressed against her belly.

From behind, Charlie stormed into Liam and threw his short arms around his waist. "You were so cool up there, Lee!"

Liam held out his hand which was still clutching the guitar and he was glad when his father understood his wiggling and took it, ruffling his hair. When Liam looked up at his father's face, he could see in his smile that he was just as proud of him as his mother was.

He hoped that Adam wouldn't see this, because for him as a schoolboy this was most embarrassing. As a son, however, he was enjoying this with every cell of his body. His heart was doing somersaults. His parents, and even his little brother, were proud of him, they finally understood that he really did have talent and that it wasn't only his teacher's talking so they would keep paying his guitar lessons.

"Now, shall we get us somethin' ta eat?" Simon Pace suggested and Liam wildly nodded his head. Now that the excitement and stage fright had diminished, and the nervousness was gone and not making him feel sick anymore, his stomach was grumbling, protesting that Liam had rejected breakfast.

Liam walked to the car with his mother and his brother, to stow his guitar and get a change of clothes, so they wouldn't ruin their good clothes with Fish'n'Chips grease and so they could go play with the other children without having their mother all worried about grass stains.

Megan had just opened the trunk when a little girl came up behind Liam and tapped him on the shoulder. As soon as Liam had turned around he had the girl's lips on his cheek, giving him a peck.

"I've seen you up on that stage. You were awesome," she told him and Liam felt his cheeks grow warm, knowing he was blushing.

"Eww, Lee's smooching girls, Mommy! Look." Charlie made an engrossed face at his older brother and in return got kicked in the shin.

"No, I'm not!"

"Stop fighting!" Megan finally turned around, holding her sons' shorts and t-shirts in her hand. She gave Charlie his clothes and sent him off: "Go find your Da and let him help you change."

Then she looked at the girl, who was still standing there, looking at the ground in embarrassment.

"Hallo, you're Karen, aren't you? Roxanne's girl." The girl nodded. "I'm working at the Bridgewater Hospital with your mom." Megan explained. Then she turned to Liam. "You know each other?"

Liam nodded, "She's in ma class."

"Really? Now isn't that lovely."

"Maybe," Liam mumbled. "Now can I have ma clothes an' go change?" He would have changed right here, in or at the car, but not with Karen around. He just wanted to get away from her, and from his mother, who was embarrassing him even more than Karen's peck had.

"Sure, sure. I'll go see if I can find Roxanne. We always wanted our families to meet. Now, this is such a coincident. Roxanne never mentioned she would be going to the festival."

Liam didn't even listen to his mother's jabbering but pulled his clothes from her arm and, with a quick, shy smile at Karen, ran off to the restrooms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Night When Everything Changed  
><strong>Author:<strong> Bibi  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Lost  
><strong>Claim:<strong> Liam Pace  
><strong>Other characterspairings:** Simon Pace  
><strong>TableTheme Name & Number:** Theme set IV; #4 Safe  
><strong>Rating: <strong>NC17  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Implied rape of a minor  
><strong>Summary:<strong> One night, young Liam's life changes completely  
><strong>AN:** Second of ten for over_look for the claim of Liam

_**The Night When Everything Changed**_

It is 4:21 am when Liam checks his alarm clock.

A fresh chill blows through the tilted window. Liam deeply inhales the fresh air, mixed with that warm, unique scent his sheets give off. He feels safe. Cuddled into his sheets he's got the feeling that no one can hurt him. He's never been afraid of creaking floorboards, soughing wind, or crackling thunder. He just wraps his sheets tighter around himself and breathes.

It is the unusual sound of the front door being unlocked at this early hour, the sound of his father's heavy shoes entering the house and the muted, angry voice of his mother that makes Liam suspicious. He gets up, silently so he wouldn't wake his little brother, who is sleeping in the lower bed of their bunk bed. He tiptoes to the door, opens it slightly, sits against the wall and listens.

"…look up to you …example …smell like a beer barrel …Don't touch me!" That's all Liam can hear his mother say. He doesn't hear his father. The next thing he hears are his mother's footsteps, running up the stairs. Then a door is slammed shut and everything's silent. Too silent.

It doesn't take long for the same door to be opened again. His mother storms out and through the small crack of the door Liam can see his mother carrying sheets towards the stairs and then – and Liam is quite shocked, for this seems just so not like his mum – throws them down without a word. She turns around, heads back to her bedroom, bangs the door again and locks it. Liam can't remember if he ever witnessed the door of his parents' bedroom being locked.

It is silent again. Terribly silent. Liam is still sitting next to the door. He waits. He doesn't know what he waits for, but he waits. He is scared. He has a lot of friends, or at least class mates, whose parents are divorced or about to be divorced, and he sees what it is like for them. He doesn't want his family to be split. He doesn't want a new dad or a new mum. He wants his family to stay as it is.

He wonders if parents, generally, are able to realize that their ten-year-olds can have real feelings too - because he does have feelings. He has his joys, such as his LPs, his guitar and his football club. And he has his fears, his biggest being a family break-up. He loves his mother, he loves his father, and he even loves Charlie, though the little one sometimes can be a real pain in the arse.

Sighing deeply, Liam gets up. He has to talk to his dad, tell him how he feels, tell him that he doesn't want him and his mother to fight.

When Liam walks down the stairs his heart beats anxiously. He doesn't know why, though; maybe because it's only the crack of dawn and he shouldn't be awake, whether yet or still. Or maybe it is, because he has never approached his dad with feelings-talk before. He simply doesn't know.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, Liam nearly stumbles over the bed sheets still lying there.

Why are they still here? His father could long have gone to get them. Maybe he doesn't care. _Don't be stupid, of course he cares; who would like to sleep without sheets?_ _He only hasn't realised yet that they're here_.

Liam picks them up. He'll bring them to his dad.

"Da?" cautiously Liam enters the living room. It is dark and quiet, but he can hear his father breathe.

"Da, why don't ya switch on some light?" Liam asks while he switches the light on. "I brought your sheets." He says, hesitantly going closer to the couch where he can now see his father sitting.

"Whatcha doin' here? Shooncha be 'n bed?" Liam doesn't like his father to babble. It's no good sign anyway, because his father can stomach quite some beer without starting to babble, so how many must he have had for him to babble?

"Why have you come home only now?" Liam asks, ignoring his father's question.

"Whassid goddado wi' ya?" His father bites back.

"How much beer did ya have?" Liam finds his breath going lightly staccato and his hands shaking, but he won't give in, his dad has to know that this isn't only his business. He has a family he should take care of.

"You," his father pointed at him, "stop askin' me queshions like Ah wash da ten-year-ald."

"Da, please. Talk to me. I'm no baby." Liam begs. He puts the sheets on the easy chair next to him, goes over to the couch and sits next to his father.

"No babeh, huh?" his dad echoes him. "So what? Ya're a man? Ya think ya're a man?"

_I dunno,_ Liam wants to say. _I'm just a boy. _But he can't. It would be just like giving in, like giving up, like retreating from his intention to let his father know that he is afraid and he wants to know if he has to be. "I do think so," he finally says.

"Lemme see if ya're right."

Liam doesn't understand.

"C'mon Lee, geddup."

With huge eyes, and without understanding what his father wants, Liam stares at his dad.

"Geddup. Drop tho' pants o' yars." His father's voice is demanding.

This time Liam gets it. His mouth drops open. This can't be.

"Get goin', lad, doncha waste ma time."

Liam is shaking his head. First from refusal, second from denial. Maybe if he pinches himself hard enough he'll wake up and this bad dream's over.

But it isn't a dream, it's reality. He doesn't wake up when his father grabs him hard on his arm. He yanks him up, pulling him over to stand between his knees, and then yanks down Liam's pajama pants.

It is 6:08 am when Liam crawls back under his sheets.

He has brushed his teeth three times, he has washed the tears off his face, but he still feels filthy. He feels filthy, dirty, ashamed, and worthless.

And worst of all: he can't seem to find peace. His sheets don't give off a lovely, protecting scent anymore. They stink. They stink of him. Of his body, his filthy, worthless body.

New tears run down his cheeks. He sits up, presses his knees against his chest, tries to protect himself. But he feels like he has to be protected from himself and how could you protect yourself from you?

He's scared. He's more scared than only a bit over an hour earlier, but a family break up isn't his worst fear anymore. He hates Charlie. For sleeping peacefully. He hates his mother, for having locked herself into her bedroom. He hates his father. He hates him, hates him, hates him! But the person he hates most is he himself.


End file.
